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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255854">Miners and Medibots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiefMediBot/pseuds/ChiefMediBot'>ChiefMediBot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers: War for Cybertron Trilogy (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, This is my first shot at a shippy fic, War, i like this pairing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:36:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255854</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiefMediBot/pseuds/ChiefMediBot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little fic about what happens after Ratchet saves Impactor. Probably will write at least one more chapter. Please be nice to me I’ve never written romance or fluff lol. Actually I’ve never written a fic before this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ratchet/Impactor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Miners and Medibots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The battle with the Autobots had ended, and the aftermath had left wreckage and debris littering all along the streets.  </p><p>He felt the rubble that lay on top of him, nearly crushing him. Even worse, the metal beam that  impaled his chassis. It ached more than anything he’d ever experienced. His spark felt cold. He felt even colder than when he was working in the mines, and his processor felt numb.</p><p>Yet somehow he refused to die. </p><p><i>I want to go home</i>. Impactor thought before pausing to ask himself what that even meant. Was it the Well of All Sparks? The Decepticons? Well it couldn’t be the latter. He vaguely recalled that they were the ones who just left him here to die slowly. And it wasn’t the former either. He guessed Primus was willing to drag this one out as long as possible as some cruel joke. Truthfully the only “home” he ever really knew was the mines. Cold and dark.</p><p><i>Just like this</i>. He sighed into the darkness, waiting for the long drawn out end.</p><p>He dimmed his optics, and continued waiting for the inevitable, whenever it decided to put him out of his misery, when he saw a flash of light. He figured this was it. The blurred outline of a figure was all he could see. </p><p>“P-Primus?” He choked.</p><p>The figure spoke. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s alright. Try to stay calm. I’ve got you.” </p><p>Impactor half expected to be whisked away to the Well. Instead, his vision slowly began to focus on a white mech with bits of grey and red. He looked up at the mech’s face and saw a pair of sparkling blue optics, which were deep set in his grey faceplate and narrowed in concentration. He looked down and gave a confused glance at the bot's faded badge low on his frame. </p><p>
  <i>An Autobot?</i>
</p><p>An Autobot seemingly coming to his rescue might have been cause for serious alarm had he not been so exhausted, but the look on his face was gentle, harmless perhaps. And all Impactor wanted was to be taken far away from here. He silently begged the mech to do so.</p><p>Before he could damage his processor thinking too hard about why an Autobot of all Cybertronians came to his rescue. The mech closely inspected his predicament and flashed a kind, reassuring smile, like he was telling him he was, by some miracle, going to live. Impactor took in the mechs nice smile and decided that if his spark were to extinguish right then and there, well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But his rescuer had other plans for him. He gave a sudden growl of pain and then the mech’s gentle hand rested on Impactor’s shoulder, shushing and reassuring him that everything would be okay as he got to work pulling him off the poles and rubble. </p><p>The last thing Impactor knew was that he was being quickly transported somewhere. Somehow, he had managed to dodge fate. </p><p>He caught another blurry visual of the mech’s  soft smile as he was being quickly carried off. </p><p>He completely offlined his optics, now feeling safe.</p><p>_________</p><p>It had been about one and a half Orbital Cycles since Impactor’s incident. And Ratchet had often complimented that he healed quite nicely. </p><p>Impactor woke from his recharge in his berth, ready to begin a new day in helping other mechs. It was understood in Ratchet’s medbay that if any bot regained their strength after he healed them, they had to use it to help others. So once he was fully healed, he had. He got up and got to work, asking if anyone needed his assistance. </p><p>If he was being honest, Impactor didn’t understand Ratchet’s rule at first. <i>Why would an Autobot choose to help Decepticons anyway? Why would enemies help each other?</i> He had previously pondered to himself in the days after his rescue. He even asked Ratchet the same question one day while the mech was checking him over, and he replied with a warm smile that it was simply his duty to help everyone. It took him a while to accept this, given the uncaring attitudes of the mechs he had previously looked up to. But the medic’s compassion towards <i>all</i> Cybertronians began to rub off on Impactor, maybe even made him a softer, kinder, more sympathetic bot.</p><p>So much so that when he noticed that Ratchet had returned from searching for supplies and possibly more injured mechs, he couldn’t help the crooked smile that crept across his face plate and the warmth inside his Spark. And while he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he secretly hoped he was watching him help the other mechs.</p><p>“Hello Impactor.” He was tending to a bedridden bot when Ratchet greeted him with a soft smile. The same one he saw when Ratchet found him that day. Warm and gentle. He really liked it.</p><p>“Hey Doc,” he said. “How was the supply run?”</p><p>Ratchet sighed. “Not great.” He said, somewhat defeated. </p><p>He looked around at all the mechs in his bay. Some of them were helping clean up around them, others were checking up on those bots confined to berths. Impactor had spent so much time here already that he couldn’t tell if they were helping an enemy or friend. He supposed it didn’t matter. Not here.</p><p>“At least I get to come back to this.” The medic waved his arm toward all of them and smiled a proud yet tired smile. </p><p>“Yeah…” Impactor turned his attention from what was going on in the medbay to Ratchet’s face. It was laden with exhaustion. The doc was still youthful and handsome, yet there were already vague impressions of age lines around his optics. It made Impactor sad that the war did that to such a selfless bot. He could tell that the mech was so busy taking care of others that he often forgot about taking care of himself, as well as the fact he seemed to be barely hanging on to any shred of optimism he had left. He imagined what the war would continue to do to him and shuddered. The doc could use some rest. </p><p>He was deep in thought when he felt a gentle servo on his shoulder and snapped out of it. </p><p>“Impactor? Is everything alright?”</p><p>“Y-yeah.” Impactor stammered. “Just, I really think you should rest, doc. Let me take take of everyone.” He knew Ratchet was an excellent healer, and surely a competent mech. However, with so many bots now stuck here it was far too much for one bot to handle no matter how experienced. Even if he had some of the help of those bots that regained their strength, he did most of the work. No wonder he seemed so exhausted. It was overwhelming.</p><p>“Thank you, Impactor. I really appreciate that you would offer to do that.” He sighed tiredly, looking around. “But don’t think I can just leave my medbay like this just so I can go recharge. I was already gone too long on an unsuccessful supply run.” </p><p>Ratchet’s insistence on working without any rest or anyone to help take over for him made him frown. He understood he had bots to look after, but Impactor insisted he could use some rest. “Please doc,” he said. “You already do so much work for everyone. And I can look after them while you’re recharging. I’ll even gather everyone who’s strong enough to help. I know I’m not as experienced as you, and I only have one working servo but-” Ratchet gave him a sympathetic look. “Please. Just for a little while?” </p><p>Ratchet mulled it over for a minute, and suddenly took one of Impactor’s servos in his own, making Impactor’s breath catch in his intakes. His field reached out to Impactor, open and trusting, and gave him a soft smile. Impactor struggled to meet the handsome doc’s optics. </p><p>“Alright Impactor.” He smiled softly, lightly squeezing his servo. “Thank you. But promise me you’ll play nice with those big, mean Autobots.” He joked and winked, chuckling lightly and tapping on his insignia with his other servo. Impactor snorted and rolled his optics, and Ratchet jokingly shot him a look when he saw that. “And please at least come get me if there’s an emergency.”</p><p>“I, uh.” Impactor began, looking quickly at their intertwined servos and feeling warmth creep up behind his faceplate. “Yes of course, doc.” </p><p>Ratchet let go of Impactor’s servo and nodded, and Impactor groaned to himself, aching for that  touch again immediately. Ratchet began to walk back toward his office, calling behind him jokingly. “And I mean it! Make sure you play nice with the other bots!” </p><p>Impactor sighed happily, and got to work.</p>
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